The Boy Who Lived - To Be a Girl?
by S. Ravenquill
Summary: What if Harry Potter wasn't born as a boy...but a girl? Circumstances demanded she be disguised as a boy, but when the magic wears off her life will never be the same. She will never be the same.
1. Chapter 1: A Child is Born

~A/N Now, I must say that normally I hate stories where Harry's gender is changed, especially in the middle of the series. But this idea has been mucking about in my head for a week now, so I decided to get it out there. And I started from the beginning.

Hope you enjoy it, I'll be adding more to this story sometime, but for now my focus is on my other story: The Many Faces of Harry James Potter. However, if I get a good enough response I'll add some time to this.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling does. I'm not making any money from this so there's no point in suing me.

Warnings: Mild to moderate violence and abuse incoming. Possibly some strong language. A/N~

* * *

Lily Potter was pregnant. She and her husband James had conceived their first child a few months ago, and it was getting close to the time said child would come into the world. She was as excited as any new mother is, awed by the life growing within her. Her only regret was that her sister wouldn't be there to share the wonder of this new life with her.

Her sister, Petunia Evans née Dursley, was a proud, stubborn woman, and as jealous as the sea was deep. She had cut ties with her sister years before and no matter how many letters and cards Lily sent, she wouldn't reply. This saddened Lily, since she loved her sister dearly. More than anything she wished to reconnect with her: to be sisters again.

Yet the time drew closer and closer for Lily's child to be born and it seemed her sister wanted no part in her life now, or ever. Her husband James, however, invited all his old school friends over to share this time with them, practically bursting with excitement. He paid no mind to the growing numbers in employ of the Dark Lord Voldemort. To him, life was perfect, and nothing could stop it from being so.

James knew that the child within his wife's womb was a son, even though they hadn't checked the gender (at his wife's insistence). Every firstborn child in the Potter line for the past 800 years had been a son. He pestered his wife with possible baby names, confused when she wanted to think up girls' names too. Didn't she understand that there was no possible chance of their child being a girl? The only way she could be pregnant with a girl was... no, he couldn't even think that Lily would do that to him! Lily was the perfect wife for the perfect husband, and they couldn't be happier together.

Eventually, after much cajoling, Lily agreed to name their son Harry. They named James' best friend, Sirius Black, the godfather. Lily had the nerve to suggest _Snape_ as a second godfather, as if the Death Eater would be good for Harry! She had cut ties with the git a long time ago, he had thought. He grew suspicious. What was her relationship with the slimy Slytherin? What was Lily hiding from him?

Lily was worried. She saw the suspicious glint in her husband's eyes. She had renewed ties with Sev shortly before leaving Hogwarts, against her better judgement. She knew he loved her dearly, even if he had made wrong choices in his life. She knew he would love her child just the same. Sirius was still so immature and childish, he would be sure to only get her child into trouble! If only Sev hadn't become a Death Eater... She might have fallen for him too. But she had James, and they were happy together. He was still pigheaded and arrogant, but he was a caring husband and would be a loving father. She could only pray her child would be a son, as James insisted.

Lily came into labor on the thirty-first of July. She gave birth just before midnight, making her child truly the last born in July. She lay panting and sweating as she grasped her husband's hand anxiously. The midwife washed the child, who had started to cry already. James smiled and squeezed her hand.

The midwife exclaimed happily, "It's a girl!" presenting the child to her parents.

James' smile immediately darkened into a look of absolute loathing as he glared down at the child in her mother's arms.

"How could you..." he started, voice cracking with rage and betrayal.

Lily pleaded with her husband, "James, I swear! She's yours! I've never been with-" but she was cut off as his hand struck out, slapping her across the face.

James ripped the child from her arms in a fit of rage, muscular hand tightening around the babe's neck. The child began to choke, horrible gagging noises pouring from her throat. The midwife gasped in horror at the scene playing out before her as Lily struggled to her feet.

In a stroke of quick thinking, the midwife drew her wand, yelling, "Stupefy!"

Lily watched as James fell to the ground, unconscious. She threw herself forward, catching her daughter just before she hit the floor. Her hands fluttered helplessly around her child's neck as tears rolled down her face. Why, why did her child have to be a girl? She never thought James would react in such a way. He was always so kind...

She looked up at the midwife through tear-soaked eyes. "Please," she begged, "don't tell anyone."

The midwife still looked horrified, but nodded slowly. She took the child, spelling her to sleep before gently healing her neck.

Lily staggered to her feet, snatching her wand off the table. A look of cold determination poured from her emerald eyes as she gazed at her husband on the floor. She knew what she had to do.

Her wand moved shakily over his head as she murmured the words to the most powerful memory replacement charm she knew. James would only know his daughter as a son.

Then she moved to her daughter. "Is she well?" she asked the midwife hopefully.

The midwife nodded sadly. "She will suffer no long-term effects. She was very lucky."

Lily looked the woman in the eye. "I have to do this," she stated firmly.

The midwife looked back, understanding in her eyes. "I know," she said, voice filled with shared pain. "I will never tell."

Lily now trained her wand on her daughter. She breathed in deeply, tears spilling form her eyes as she wove a complex charm to change her child's appearance from female to male. Her desperation gave strength to her spell and though it was the first time she had cast it since school, it went perfectly. Her sleeping daughter- now son, looked peaceful, breathing deeply, no sign of the trauma just witnessed.

Lily closed her eyes for a moment, whispering, "I'm sorry, Harry. I truly am."

She did what had to be done, but was it the right thing to do? Maybe someday James could be told, but until then she would need to keep up the charm. It lasted at most a half-year, so she would have to remember to reapply it. She was already making plans in her mind.

The midwife placed her hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "You did the right thing," she said, though she sounded uncertain herself. "But we should wake your husband."

So Lily got back into bed, cradling her daughter- no, son, to her chest. And life went on for the Potter family.


	2. Chapter 2: A Shocking Discovery

~A/N Thank you to my reviewers!

I thought I should add, since I neglected to do so last chapter, that my direction for this story will be to place young Harry in an alternate reality from canon, but still give Voldemort his time in the spotlight with her. The chapter length should be significantly increasing after this. A/N~

* * *

Before they knew it, the Potters were thrust into a world of darkness. Voldemort was targeting them and their newborn child. They were forced to go into hiding. Lily, especially, was nervous. She had been having second thoughts on her decision, but it was too late to go back now. War was brewing and she and little Harry needed all the security they could get. Besides, where else could she go?

Unfortunately, the Potters were betrayed. One of their closest friends ratted out their position to the Dark Lord, hoping to gain power for himself. Sirius Black was hauled off to Azkaban, unable to act as godfather to the young child. And the Potters died at Voldemort's hand, all but young Harry. Somehow the infant managed to escape the curse of death that had felled many another wizard. Somehow a babe had managed to defeat the darkest warlock the world had seen in many ages. And so he was celebrated, worshiped even. He was hailed as Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived.

Harry, however, knew none of this, having been left on a cold Muggle doorstep on the very night his parents were murdered. He knew not that he was a wizard, nor that he was famous, and would remain in the dark for quite some time. In fact, almost four more years would pass before he realized that anything _truly_ unusual was happening, as many unusual or unexplainable things seemed to happen around the young boy.

It was a sunny, hot day in the month of June, a perfect day for beach-going. A few cumulus clouds drifted lazily across the sky, occasionally blotting out the sun's radiant gaze for a moment before continuing on their journey. Wizards and Muggles alike were enjoying this fine day all across Britain, but for one young wizard who would soon be finding this bright, joyous day very _un_enjoyable indeed.

Harry Potter, a black-haired, scrawny boy of nearly five years old, was sitting in a cupboard, currently in punishment for yet another mysterious, unexplainable occurrence. This time he had broken one of his Aunt's dishes, only to look down, horrified, and find it had miraculously reformed. His Aunt and Uncle were less than overjoyed, though for what reason Harry didn't know. He had long since given up asking questions; the number one rule of the Dursley household (for Harry at least) was to _not ask questions_.

Eventually Harry drifted off to sleep, floating in the gentle hands of Morpheus.

Such bliss was not to last, however, as his Aunt rapped sharply on his door, hissing, "Get up!"

Harry sighed, knowing that the only thing that awaited him would be more chores. He was very hungry, his stomach kept cramping uncomfortably, and he was feeling kind of weak, but hopefully if he got them all done in time Aunt Petunia would give him some food.

His Uncle's vicious words drifted back to him. "Freaks don't deserve food!" he had said. And what his Uncle said, he meant.

Harry hoped he would stop being a freak soon. It would make his life a whole lot easier.

Harry quickly pulled on his clothes, stuffed under Dudley's old crib mattress, now his, before stumbling out of the cupboard.

As he predicted, his aunt shoved a list of chores at him, promising, "If they're not all finished before your uncle gets home, you'll not get any food," in her usual nasally, sharp tone. She looked at him like he was a mud puddle marring her perfectly pristine white floor. Which was an accurate description, actually, seeing as he hadn't bathed in a week but still had to do all the gardening chores. His skin felt caked with dried sweat and dirt.

Harry had a lot of trouble making out the list, as his eyesight was truly terrible. However he eventually got it all down. He was to dust, scrub the front hall, and weed the garden. It was a shorter list than usual today, and for that he was grateful.

He started on the indoor chores first, making sure he removed every speck of dirt from the premises. His aunt would give him nothing if he didn't do his job perfectly. "Lazy, no-good freaks like you don't deserve the food off our table and the clothes off our backs!" his aunt's condescending voice rang in his mind. He scrubbed even harder at the sparkling tile floor.

By the time he got to the weeding it was midafternoon. He only had an hour before his aunt would start dinner and he needed to hurry. He always helped his aunt with dinner. She said that once he was old enough he would have to do it himself "to earn his keep", so he watched her carefully. If he did anything wrong he would have hell to pay.

The sun baked his sweaty back as he gingerly disentangled the roots of the sproutling weeds from his aunt's prized flowers. He actually rather liked gardening. It somehow made him feel happy, which was a forbidden thing in the Dursley household. The gentle green leaves of the plants, so dependent on his care. They never yelled at him or hurt him. Sometimes he even felt like they appreciated him. They were like friends, he thought. He didn't have any real friends to compare with but it seemed that those were things friends did.

All too soon he finished tending to the flowerbeds, the weeds bundled up and whisked away to the trash. The sun was midway on its descending arc across the sky. He washed off his dirty fingers in the cold outdoor faucet and reentered the plain beige-painted house, first taking off his shoes and placing them just outside the door. His aunt heard his entrance and appeared in the room.

She took one disgusted look at him before swiftly ordering, "Shower, now. You have five minutes, and don't use warm water! Then come help with dinner." Her bony finger pointed the way to the stairs.

Harry knew that the dinner wouldn't be for him. Freaks don't deserve dinners. Freaks don't deserve showers either, but his aunt would get fed up with his filth after a while and let him use the cold water and dish soap. It hurt, numbing his skin, but it was better than being dirty all the time.

Harry lightly made his way up the steps to the bathroom. He avoided looking in the mirror; it would only show the reflection of a freak. However, as he undressed, a shocking sight met his eyes. His- It- He was- He was-! ...What!? No way!

Sure things had disappeared around him before, but this was going too far! It was beyond freakish! (And that was saying something.) Should he tell his aunt? No, surely she wouldn't care, or would just punish him again... He...just had to hope...it came back... His subconscious took over and somehow he made it through his shower, mind buzzing with unanswered questions and exclamations.

It seemed that, at least for now, Harry Potter - unwanted, freakish relative of the Dursley family - had become even more strange than before. He was now, for lack of a better description, a girl.

* * *

~A/N Questions, comments, criticisms, send them my way!

If you would like to suggest what house you think Harry should be sorted into, feel free to do so in a review. Currently I'm not seeing Gryffindor or Hufflepuff as the one, though.

Also, if you would like more chapters with pre-Hogwarts Harry, let me know, as otherwise I'll continue on straight to Harry's letter. A/N~


End file.
